Melancholic
by Katrina Puffinstuf
Summary: His words keep ringing through my head over and over again. I know he couldn’t have been able to tell, but he’s crushed me with those very words... Typical Slytherin… H/D slash


**Author's Note: **I dedicatethis ficto my friend, who went through the same kind of melancholy found in this story.

If you don't tolerate slash, this is probably not the fic for you.

Please review. And I don't mean, "omg wut wer u thinkin u suk slash suks ass u dum fcuk!" That's not a review. That's just an ignorant person trying to get their point across. If you don't like something, please express it in a rational way, that way, I can _understand_ you and perhaps build upon your critique. If you like something, tell me so I can continue building upon that idea because it obviously works.

Thanks.

Signed,  
The Author (Hellflower, otherwise known in the ficcing world as K-Trina Puffinstuf, and sometimes referred to in the real world as Katie)

* * *

**Melancholic**

"…_**I hope you realize I can't be there for you like he is…"**_

Those words keep ringing through my head over and over again. I know he couldn't have been able to tell, but he's crushed me with those very words. It isn't just those words, though; I know it's not. I remember his exact tone of voice. It was hollow, empty, and unfeeling—so different from the one he used before luring me into his lusty trap. Typical Slytherin…

"…I _hope_ you realize…" He's trying to sound like he actually gives a damn! If he did, he would have had the sense _not_ to bring the sex into it. I didn't even want to. I _did not_ want to have sex with him. I didn't want to even touch him… not in that way, anyway. Perhaps in a friendly way—maybe even in a friendly _romantic _way—but only that. Naturally, he changed that to fit his desires.

And then there is the, "_I can't be there for you like he is…_" Like HE is… Like _he_ is… a.k.a. he can't love me. He can touch me and tease me, but he can't _love_ me—like HE can. I can be his plaything, but NOT his object of affection. Oh no, god forbid Draco Malfoy, of all people, is able to love someone. To actually think outside of the bedroom, and to better things, but NO, he cannot. But _he_ can…

_He_… of course, loves me. _He_ loves me with all of _his_ heart. And I love him too—I do love him! He is the reason for my happiness, and without him… I don't know where I would be—_if_ I would even be. He's saved me from doing costly things just by existing, and I am truly grateful for that. I love him, and he is _mine_. It just goes together. Ron and I were meant for each other—the dream team… the duo of all duos! Even the teachers here understand it. We belong together…but… how can I even say that truthfully after doing what I did to the one that I love? I cheated on _him_. I cheated on the one that makes me so happy. I cheated on the one I love. Is it possible that I ruined something that is very, very good in my life? Yes.

_But it would be perfect with Draco…_

And how perfect it would be… to hold him and to have him hold me. To lay under the stars with him just like we used to. I would die to hear his voice speak so tenderly to me, like way back when our relationship began BEFORE the sex. It was pure, innocent romance back then. It was perfect. It was not very, very good, but perfect. I want that perfection again. But he toyed with my mind, making me think we actually had a chance at that again. Why else would I spend the night with him, bowing to his every need?

It started off innocent enough. We decided on meeting in our old hangout, up in the older Astronomy Tower—not the ones where the couples go to make out or otherwise, 'get some'. This was just a place to go to get away from it all. A place for _friends…_that was my only intention! It had been awhile since we'd hung out without hard feelings (the breakup had taken a severe toll on, well, me, and I said some harsh things to him). We had just recently reconciled, and I actually thought that we would both benefit from some good conversation. How wrong I was…

I sent him a short note via owl post telling him to meet me, and he sent one back saying he thought it was a good idea. _There is no harm in that_, I thought. I hardly thought about it during the day. There was no anxiety or pressure on me. We saw each other in the hall, said our usual cover-up taunts to each other (the student body couldn't even handle us being friends…), and gave each other no hint of anything romantic, not to mention anything _sexual_. There was no trace of nervousness within me. I was actually very happy to be seeing him without the tension that was usually surrounding us whenever we were alone together. I wasn't even nervous when Ron caught me sneaking out the portrait hole at around 11 o'clock. He asked me, "Going out for a walk?"

I answered with a solid, "Yes." There was nothing suspicious about it at all.

Naturally, he answered with the usual, "Er, okay. I'll catch you when you get back?"

I nodded, still not worried about a thing. I hadn't lied to him. I was indeed going for a walk!

I stepped into the Astronomy Tower only to see Draco waiting there, sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the stars. He turned his head upon seeing me, and then he propped himself up on his elbows a little. He smiled at me, and it made me very happy. I hadn't seen his genuine smile in weeks.

So, he beckoned me over, motioning for me to sit with him. Of course, we didn't end up sitting for long. Eventually, we were lying down, scanning the stars and talking about whatever. Lying there with him made that odd little squirmy feeling come into the pit of my stomach. It was that feeling of reminiscence… of how it used to be—like old times. That very thought made goosebumps fly up my body, but with what feeling, I still am not sure.

I don't know when we crossed the line, when everything became tense, but it was somewhere in between talking about how much he hates his father and how much he would love to spend the night in the Tower with me. I told him, _specifically_ told him that I did not want to. I was already getting a feeling I knew I shouldn't have been getting by lying with him, and I didn't want to heighten that feeling anymore. I told him that, too. He said that he would push me away if I came onto him. He would remind me of Ron, if need be—if it got to that point. He just wanted to spend the night with me, regardless of what we would do. The naivety of Harry Potter strikes again…

I tried firmly telling him that I didn't have a good feeling about it, but he kept saying that he did, and that it would all be okay. He started to get that depressed look about his face whenever I would check my watch, saying, "I ought to get back…" I felt horrid whenever that look passed over him, and I wanted to comfort him—but in a _friendly _way. I put my arms around him, hugging him. I told him that I would stay with him. BIG MISTAKE. He put his arms around me, as if returning the hug, though there was something about it that was not completely friendly. I dismissed this as nervousness, and we sat like that for minutes upon minutes, which must've turned into an hour sometime in there.

At one point, I am not sure when, our hands were nestled together, one on top of the other. That feeling, that simple feeling of _holding hands_, for crying out loud, sent me over the edge. Old feelings came pouring back, and I can't even remember if it was him or me who grabbed the other's hand. Either way, we were holding hands. And Draco, cynically true to his word, turns to me, looks at me with half shut eyes, _knowing_ he is practically seducing me, and says, "What if Ron were to see us like this?"

I did not answer, for those eyes were killing me, but in the back of my mind, the thought sat screaming furiously, trying to get me out of the state I was in, saying, '_Do you think Ron would fucking enjoy seeing you two like this?' _Still, I didn't think it was risking our relationship. Besides, when it was, Draco said he would push me away. I trusted that he would… friends can trust each other, right?

Wrong. That look in his eyes said it all. He wanted it—and he wanted it right now. I knew that look. I had responded to it with much eagerness, more times than not, on and off within the past year, in between Ron-relationships. That look alone made me, to put it _nicely_, as horny as I could've possibly been in those circumstances. He looked me over, the way he usually used to whenever he would be getting ideas, and ran his hand down to my belt. Apparently, pushing me away when I came onto him was conveniently slipping his mind. He asked me again with a whisper this time, as he toyed with my belt buckle, loosening it teasingly, "What if Ron were to see us like this?"

I blinked a few times and just kind of shrugged, though the voice in back of my head was positively wailing now, saying, _"What the hell are you thinking?!"_ The idiot knew damn well what he was doing. He knew how to get me going, even if I wasn't the slightest bit aroused before—which I wasn't! At that point, however, that was quite irrelevant, because now I was aroused. VERY aroused. The very degree of it was disgusting, but it was consuming me. My control over my mind and body crumbled, and I let his hands roam about my body, teasing and touching. When I went to do the same to him, however, he put up a hand to stop me, saying one last time right into my ear, "What if Ron were to—"

At that point, I was completely driven by desire, sex-hungry, and just ready for whatever he was willing to throw at me (or so I thought), and I just told him to shut up, kissing him in a way I _know_ I could never kiss Ron. And, of course, he kissed back with that equally intense passion that I loved so very much.

And the sex was perfect, as it always was with Draco...as _everything_ was with Draco. It was intense and mind-blowing, and when it was all over, I don't remember ever being happier. The two of us were completely spent, but what was even better was the fact that it seemed he was giving me another shot. Could it be I would have a chance at true, raw perfection?

Hah…_no._

My happiness was short lived. Only moments after we finished, he tells me things that I will never forget, though I wish I could. How I _wish_ I could…

That voice he used, devoid of passion, replaced with apathy, said to me that if I ever realized that Ron and I wouldn't work out, he could _not_ be there for me like Ron was.

"…_like Ron was…_" It hit me just then that I fucked up. I fucked up big time. _What if Ron found out,_ I thought wildly. _What if someone told?_ But this wouldn't be a problem, since Malfoy's were notoriously good at keeping secrets. Just to make sure, I asked him. I asked him if he would tell anyone about this.

What he said next could quite possibly be the most awful thing any single person has said to me.

"_What do you think will happen,"_ he said in that snooty, sneering voice that he usually used in school, _"if anyone found out about this? Me and… you? I would feel like dirt… like the scum of the earth."_

His scathing tone cut through to my heart, but let me tell you that if he told me afterwards that he loved me, I would profess my undying love to him profusely. I did not care about his hurtful words. I needed him. I needed the perfection he could give me. For all I cared, in that moment, Ron's 'very, very good' relationship could go rot in pieces. I needed Draco. I needed that passionate kind of love that Draco specialized in. I so desperately needed love that… that he _couldn't_ give me.

I laid there in his arms, slowly coming back down to earth, coming upon the harsh realization that Draco only wanted a bit of fun, tonight. He did not want to be friends, or friends with fringe benefits, or even romantic friends. He most definitely did _not _want to love me. Just sex. That was all he ever wanted…

After deciding on getting the hell out of there, I dressed and walked up to Gryffindor Tower, where Ron would be waiting for me. I was in a daze, a depressed daze, not taking any precautions against what might be a clue to my whereabouts. I knew that Draco's cologne was smothered all over my body and that my belt was probably buckled all wrong and my shirt buttoned the wrong way, but who the hell cared. His cologne was kind of like Ron's, anyway, just stronger, and for all he knew, I could've just gotten into a row with whatever illegal beast Hagrid is deciding to keep on school grounds, now.

Luckily, for my sake, Ron was nowhere to be found. I curled up on the couch beside the fire, trying not to think about Ron, the boy-that-the-boy-who-lived-apparently-loved-but-cheated-on-with-Malfoy, who probably was safe and thinking happy thoughts somewhere. Whatever he would be thinking about would be, as usual, very, very good. I now wish that I would have settled for very, very good, rather than shooting for that impossible goal—perfection.

And now, I am lying here, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do. If I tell him, I'll risk losing him forever. I couldn't live with that. I couldn't live without him. I only wish I had realized that before Malfoy got the bright idea of getting into my pants… again. I know I made the first move, so to speak, but that was friendly. I even told him so. He made the first sexual move. I know that for definite. That still doesn't give me any defense for my actions tonight; it doesn't stop me from being a common whore.

And if I don't tell him? The guilt will kill me, for sure. I mean, I'll have to pass by Malfoy every day until the end of this year, and every time I see those eyes, full of malice and hatred towards just about anything and everything that moves, I'll remember tonight and want to take an axe to him… and then to myself. Dying would be much less painful than telling Ron about this stupid escapade. Death would be much more welcoming than whatever look will appear on his face when he hears of this.

It looks like I've been left no other choice than, well, what else—go to Hermione, go straight to Hermione. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. I only hope she doesn't kill me for this one.

…but if she did, it would save me the trouble and the time.

--Harry J. Potter


End file.
